


Who Favor Fire

by swatkat



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Fire Nation Royals, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, POV Second Person, Triad AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 14:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swatkat/pseuds/swatkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is Ursa's family. [Triad AU. Contains no spoilers for Legend of Korra, although it does borrow the Republic City backdrop and Shiro Shinobi, the radio commentator.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Favor Fire

 

1.

 

Your daughter lies in an unmarked grave in some unremarkable corner of a Republic City graveyard—or so they tell you.

You don't always believe them. Azula has never been unremarkable in her life.

—

You visit, once, with Ty Lee for company (not your son, never your son), one rainsoaked afternoon when your entire world is grey and brown.

You take it all in—the harsh patter of rain on row after row of unmarked graves, containing benders and non-benders from every nation, Republic City's unwanted. A rich earth smell hangs around you, cloying. You take it all in and your heart does not break.

Beside you, Ty Lee shivers. The raindrops are cold on your skin.

You walk back slowly, as though in a fog, half-noticing the lights and the way people brush past you on the crowded sidewalk.

'I think I see her sometimes,' Ty Lee tells you, her voice like a child's. 'I know it sounds crazy. But I think sometimes that she must've escaped that place somehow. Azula was always so _smart_.'

You smile at Ty Lee, kind. She was once your daughter's trusted lieutenant. You have (almost) forgiven her for running when things got tough, _no_ , for doing the right thing.

'She can't be in there,' Ty Lee says. 'I just know it.'

You take her hand and don't let go. The colossal statue of Avatar Roku looks down upon you, his face lit by an incandescent fire.

—

Your son finds you poring over year-old reports and apologizes.

You look up from the police photographs in front of you and say, 'What are you apologizing for, Zuko?'

'I don't know,' he tells you, looking away. You note the way he holds himself ramrod straight. 'Everything. Nothing's the way it should be.'

You run your eyes over his profile, taking in his police uniform, the angry scar on his face and the circles underneath his eyes. Always the good son, your Zuko, trying so hard to set things right.

'Don't,' you say, and he looks back at you, surprised. 'Don't apologize for your sister's life.'

His sister never did.

 

2.

 

Azula learns cruelty at her father's knee, along with her earliest lessons in firebending.

Lo and Li take over soon after, stealing her away for practice, practice. For swords, Ozai gets hold of the elusive Master Piandao, albeit through what trick or bribery you cannot imagine. _Only the best for his children_ , he says.

Your husband has grand dreams of surpassing his father, his legendary older brother, until the very name of the Agni Kais and their self-styled 'Fire Lord' breathes terror into every heart in Republic City. His children are the key to his grand future, and they must only be the best.

You are not entirely sure what you manage to teach your daughter. Azula excels in every one of her father's lessons even as Zuko stumbles and falls, and there isn't anything that you have to offer, nothing attractive enough to lure her to your side, if only for a short while.

You teach your son endurance and hope that will be enough.

 

 

3.

 

You're arguing again.

That's all you do, of late—raised voices and bitter words. Your husband mocks and your son rages, and your daughter...

Your daughter never loses _her_ temper, only pushes and prods until you're certain to lose yours.

'Don't think I don't know about grandfather,' she says and you stop on your tracks, all your angry words about _the future_ and _responsibility_ forgotten as you stare at her.

Of course she knows, you think. That much is certain. They both do.

No one has spoken of Azulon to you since that fateful day ten years ago, and of course it is Azula who dares. Of course.

A small part of you admires the way she effortlessly manipulates the entire conversation for her own benefit.

'Then you know that I did what I had to do,' you grit out slowly, determined not to act like an undignified mess.

'I _do_ , Mother,' Azula says, sincere. 'You taught me that.'

'I did what I had to do to protect your brother. You _know_ that,' you say, hating the way your voice rises, in spite of yourself. You should know better than to rise to her bait. 'I would do the same for you. What we're talking about has _nothing_ —'

'No you wouldn't,' she interrupts, matter of fact. You look at your daughter, too stunned to speak. You wonder if this is how it feels to be at the receiving end of one of her infamous ambush attacks. 'But that's all right, Mother.'

 

 

4.

 

_The triad situation continues to escalate as the Agni Kais decimated two warehouses in a brazen assault at the heart of the business district this evening, leaving at least one dead and fifteen others wounded. Leading the attack with her signature ice-blue flames was none other than the redoubtable Azula, the rumoured heir of the elusive Fire Lord Ozai and an increasingly formidable figure in the Republic City crime scene. Sources within the Republic City Police claim that the destroyed property was controlled by the Red Monsoons, a rival triad, and may have contained illegal narcotics. The police are still assessing the damage. Meanwhile, ordinary citizens ask, how much more must the city endure before the authorities reign in the triads? How long must—_

The radio, you think, is a dreadful invention.

It's easier when it's just words on paper, cool and distant.

You retire early with a raging headache. Your sleep is restless, and your dreams are full of terrible fire, blue and orange, twisting and tangling and leaving your world in ashes.

 

 

5.

Azula comes to you last, and by then you have already heard. (Your husband crowed and crowed, eyes shining with unearthly fervour. _Your daughter is a prodigy_ , he said.)

The small flame that she wields for you is unquestionably, unmistakably blue in colour.

She is a child with a gift on her palm and you cannot help but flinch.

 

 

6.

'I can't do this anymore,' Zuko says. He's on his knees in front of you and won't look up, won't look _at_ you, even when you place a comforting hand on his shoulder. There's a pair of dao blades on the floor, and a blue mask, familiar.

You have had your suspicions.

'What are you saying, Zuko?' You tell him gently, although you think you know the answer. Your heart feels full, close to bursting with all the pride and dread you do not have words for.

'I have to,' he says, and his voice is filled with anguish. You place a finger under his chin and tilt his head upwards until he's forced to meet your eyes. 'The Avatar—he's my friend now. I—' he swallows. 'I have to do the right thing.'

You kiss him on the forehead and pull him close.

—

All night you think of consequences. You think of brother and sister against each other, spilling the blood that binds them. All night you think of consequences and do not sleep.

 

 

7.

_An earthbending squad led by Sgt. Toph Beifong and accompanied by Avatar Aang approached the abandoned shipyard from the Western entrance. The firebending squad covering the Eastern entrance was ambushed by twenty members of the Agni Kais. Lt. Zuko duelled with their leader..._

The police reports—procured by your son for your eyes only—are precise, clinical, the police images detached and impersonal. The newspaper clippings are bloodthirsty, covering the takedown in lurid detail, hailing the young Avatar. There is a worn photograph of your husband from the _Republic City Daily_ : handcuffed and head held high; a hand on his elbow that might be Zuko's.

You were careful, you remember, to keep away from the cursed radio at the time.

They never mention you and it's just as well. You wouldn't care for the kind of story they would choose to tell.

It was a scene of crime but the Avatar let you wander, his young eyes bright with the wisdom of lifetimes.

You remember the dust, the smoke filling your lungs and the rubble all around you.

—

'She wasn't herself,' Zuko would later say. 'I saw her falter. I—'

 

 

8.

The guards at Azula's door crumple like a pack of cards, and you can't help the minor twinge of satisfaction that runs through you at _that_. It is not often that you are required to exert yourself in this fashion.

You are greeted with the most unusual sight of your daughter in bed, fast asleep.

You came to her on a mad whim, after yet another day of too many rumours, too many wild thoughts that fill your head. You haven't forsaken your eyes and ears among your husband's associates, and sometimes it is overwhelming, the things they say. You haven't seen your daughter in a (very) long time. And now Azula does not stir, not even when you close the distance between you in a few long strides and place your hand on her forehead, gentle. Her skin is too hot to touch.

It's been a day of rumours.

Her eyes are bloodshot when they finally flutter open. They widen in recognition a moment later, and Azula rasps, 'Who let you in here? The guards? Ty Lee?'

You don't like the way her voice breaks near the end. It's been a while since you last saw your daughter, but you are not entirely unaware of how things stand.

'Lie still, Azula,' you tell her, 'You're unwell. You need to—' You pause. You do not know what your daughter needs.

She lies back down nonetheless, surprisingly pliant, and does not protest when you begin to stroke her forehead with your palm.

It is, you suppose, a testimony to her ill-health that you haven't yet been accused of spying at her brother's behest—or of anything at all, for that matter.

'Are you going to tell Father?' she says after a while, quiet, and you think you hear what she's trulyasking.

'No,' you tell her. _No_.

 

 

9.

_In a move that yet again underlines the inadequacy of the Republic City Police, the city Council today formally requested Avatar Aang for his assistance with the triad problem, even as triad violence claimed yet another life downtown. The deceased, identified as one 'Commander' Zhao, is reported to have been a former lieutenant of Fire Lord Ozai, the enigmatic leader of the Agni Kais and a—_

—

Later, Zuko tinkers with the now-silent radio and smiles. 'You could've just turned it off,' he tells you, teasing.

He looks—you realize with a sudden pang—relaxed. He looks his age: just another young man on an evening in his own home, sharing a joke with his mother, as families do.

'Where's the fun in that?' you say.

 

 

10.

You confront him only once, long after his incarceration. Long after you can trust yourself to pay him a visit—waiting in the queue, as an ordinary criminal's wife would—without descending to petty gloating or sheer incoherent rage.

'Is this what you wanted?' you ask him, and Ozai is uncharacteristically silent.

You look at him in his shabby prison clothes, this man who is your husband and who wanted, once upon a time, nothing more than to rule over Republic City.

 

 

11.

After Azulon—and that is how you will always think of it later, _After Azulon_ , your mind shrinking away from the rest of the... _events_ of that terrible day—Ozai sends you away to your vacation home at Ember Island, you and Zuko and Azula, all by yourselves.

'Soon, my dear,' he tells you every night on the phone. 'Just let things settle down a bit.'

The phone line is filled with static. Your husband's voice sounds different—unknown, like a stranger's.

'You've made me proud,' he says.

—

Ember Island is packed with life, all bright colours and sharp sea smell. Within days, Azula grows bored. Zuko sulks, unhappy to have been denied the opportunity to prove himself to his father in these trying times. They bicker incessantly and you spend much of your time chasing after the two of them, breaking up squabbles that never seem to end.

You shop for trinkets like a common tourist and bargain passionately with the cabbage merchant. Sometimes, at night, you sit under the stars and point out their names to Zuko and Azula, as your mother once did for you many years ago.

'This is boring,' Azula always says, and does not squirm away when you put an arm around her, drawing her close.

'Tell me a story,' Zuko demands, quite forgetting his own claims of being far above such childishness.

The sand is coarse underneath your feet, your daughter solid and warm by your side. One story leads on to another.

It's the happiest you have been in a long time.

 

 

12.

This is the part you'll never tell your son:

You go to your daughter, heart in your throat, not caring what cutting remarks she might make on this day, not caring how _weak_ it might make you appear.

This is your family, and you're very weak indeed. 'I came to talk' is what you say.

Your daughter, naturally, is the picture of serenity. 'I _so_ have missed our heart-to-heart conversations, Mother. Tell me, would you like me to—'

'Azula, I want this to stop,' you interrupt, harsh.

This is your family, and you cannot choke down that feeling of despair rising within you.

'Stop what?' Azula says, narrowing her eyes.

You take in her flushed countenance, the way sweat beads on her forehead as though she has been exerting herself. You wonder if she's off colour, still, and do not know how to ask.

'There's still time,' you tell her. 'Stopthis. Join hands with your brother before it's too late.'

'There's no need to be so melodramatic, mother,' Azula says mildly.

'You're not going to _win_. The Avatar is coming for you!'

'And what do you suggest I _do_ , mother? Go begging for forgiveness to Zuzu so that he can hand me over to the Avatar and be the hero of Republic City?' She spits out her name for him like a curse.

'Promise me you won't hurt Zuko,' you tell her, suddenly frantic. The words spill out without thought, and you have to let them tumble. 'Promise me you'll take care of yourself.'

You will realise, later, what you said first. You'll realise that she noticed.

You always counted on your clever little girl to take care of her own self.

'Did you make Zuzu promise, mother?' Azula arches an eyebrow, elegant.

'That's too many promises, anyway,' she tells you after a beat. 'I'll try and keep one. If I can,' she says.

She smiles at you, then, wide and inscrutable, and at that moment you don't know your daughter at all.

—

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a late night attempt to work through my many feelings for the Fire Nation Royals. What came out, however, was a garbled Triad AU. 
> 
> Title from Robert Frost's 'Fire and Ice': _From what I've tasted of desire/I hold with those who favor fire._


End file.
